


The Dead Things Store

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Happy Ending?, Horror, I Tried, POV Outsider, also romance isn't the main focus, but it's in the background, check it out, i got the pov idea from the So It's Going series by TGP, ill add more characters as they come up, its better than this, kinda like a coffee shop au but its dead stuff and not coffee, likewise with ships, theres like a parallel universe thing going, you prolly already have
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-11-28 19:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20971613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Joe William Average wasn't sure what he was expecting when he walked into the not-so-subtly named Dead Things Store, but it sure as hell wasn't a lawsuit and some kind of summoning beacon for annoying hipsters. Rightfully so, Joe was filled with questions: Why did annoying hipsters like dead shit anyway? What the heck was going on in these kids' lives that made them want to chill with skeletons? Why did Joe keep coming back to the shop that he hated?shenanigans in a store full of bones. the end of the world is just an added bonus.also the whole point.((massive plot redirection as i've finally figured out how i want to get this going where i want it to go))





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> In which Joe opens the front door.

On a nonspecific street corner in a nonspecific city, there sits a small shop. While it’s windows aren’t boarded and it’s doors aren’t locked-- save for closing times that is-- the shop doesn’t exactly exude a welcoming feeling. To your average Joe walking down the street, they would take a glance, frown, maybe feel a slight shiver, and move on. Better things to be doing than lingering around an old shop, and it’s probably closed anyway.

  
But on one Autumn evening, Joe William Average opened the door. He couldn’t say he really wanted to be there, but there was a pull to the shop he couldn’t quite shake. It could be attributed to the name of course- who names their shop The Dead Things Store? Certainly not anyone Joe would willingly associate with, he thought. But no, there was something more to the shop. Maybe it was the small chill he could feel even on a Summer’s day, or the perseverance of its existence regardless of the lack of clientele.

  
A bell jingled as he crossed the threshold. At first glance, the store was empty, but a second look revealed a small man in a beige suit by the front desk. He was rotund, quite old, and struck Joe as a sort of un-jolly Santa Claus. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, looking like it might fall with a small breeze. The shop keeper looked up at the sound of the bell, face souring almost immediately.

  
“Who are you?” the shop keeper grunted. His voice was raspy and low, and Joe felt himself recoil a bit.

  
“Pardon?”

  
“Did I stutter? Who’re you?”

  
“Oh, um, I’m Joe. Joe Average,” Joe answered, feeling his ears heat up.

  
The shop keeper took the cigarette from his mouth and faced Joe full-on.

  
“Are you messing with me, boy?”

  
“What? Oh, no- never- of course not- it’s, um, it’s a family name.” By now, Joe knew his whole face must be at least tinged pink, if not comparable to a tomato.

  
The shop keeper eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then stuck the cigarette back in and faced away from him, staring rather intensely at the back of the shop.

  
Joe took his silence for acceptance, and timidly began looking around. The nearby walls were riddled with shelves, which were randomly placed and littered with various items. Upon a closer look, these items were dead bugs. Beetles, butterflies, crickets and maggots of several varieties filled his vision, and he took a step back. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, being that he had walked into a shop quite literally named The Dead Things Store, but it wasn’t this.

  
Oh goodness, the legs, and the eyes and oh- oh, Joe thought he might fall sick. He looked towards the back of the store, where it more resembled a library without the books. Well, actually, there was a rather well-stocked bookshelf at the back, but the titles were all about bones and fossils and old professors who Joe supposed were probably experts on bones and fossils. He picked up a copy of _Fossilization for Complete and Utter Idiots_ and flipped through the pages. It seemed somewhat interesting, and he checked the price. Twenty dollars was maybe too much to spend on what might not even turn out to be a small hobby, and he re-shelved it.

  
Continuing to explore, he found a shelf full of bovine skulls, which was across from a sign boasting full skeletons, “disarticulated and articulated”, in the back. There was another shelf full of reptiles suspended in yellowish liquids, and one with what looked like genuine human skulls. Bins around the bottoms of the shelves were stocked with what were supposedly dinosaur eggs, cat bones, articulation kits, puzzles, and several different bugs caught in amber. The biggest section, however, composed of two full-to-bursting shelves, was the avian section. Dead birds invaded every inch of Joe’s vision, skeletal wings and claws and way too many skulls bouncing off of his eyes.

  
This was where Joe met Dave.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Joe's phobia of Hipsters is revealed

Dave was standing by a shelf that had an emphasis on skulls, frowning slightly as he faced the display. Joe imagined he might be looking at prices, but he couldn’t be sure as Dave’s eyes were obscured by a pair of rather obnoxious aviators. The aviators weren’t the only obnoxious thing about him, however, as he was also donning possibly the most extra hipster-but-im-not-a-hipster outfit. To top it off, he was  _ tall. _ That, in itself, counted for like, twenty obnoxious points. Joe wasn’t short by any means, but this was just ridiculous. Nobody should be allowed to reach this height. 

While Joe was seething about Dave’s height, the tall dude himself had taken notice of Joe’s gaze and acknowledged his presence. 

“Hey,” he said. His voice was completely monotone and the slightly disappointed expression Joe had attributed to the steep prices appeared to just be his face. An ember started to burn in Joe’s chest. 

“Hi,” Joe responded, cold and quick. His disdain for hipsters had seeped into any and all manners his mother had taught him, and while he did feel bad for being rude, the heat in his chest had started to intensify. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” Dave said, still infuriatingly chill. “You new here?”

“This is my first time in the shop, yes.” Joe could feel the flames licking higher now.

“Cool. I’m Dave,” said Dave.

“I know.”

“What?”

“Oh- uh, I mean I didn’t. I had a hunch? I’m Joe, by the way?” Why on earth did Joe even open his mouth? He didn’t know, he didn’t even have a hunch, he had no idea what he was talking about. For him to know this insufferable hipster’s name would be nearing sacrilegious to his religion of- uh, hating hipsters. 

“...Okay. I don’t work here but I know enough to qualify. What’re you looking for?” The grammatically incorrect contraction was kindling to the fire. Joe was enraged. 

“I’m just browsing.” Joe was barely holding back screams at this point, he had  _ never  _ in his  _ life _ met a person so  _ maddening _ to talk to. He had to get out before he blew his cool.

“In fact,” Joe added, “I think I saw something a bit back-” he gestured randomly behind him- “So I’ll just… uh…”

“Oh. Okay. Bye.” Dave went back to observing the skulls, still nonchalant and unfazed by the interaction. Joe’s blood was boiling.

In what Joe could only presume was a fit of rage, he had speed-walked as far away from Dave as possible and found himself up by the counter again. The shopkeep was not-so engaged in a one-sided argument with  Jade a girl who Joe presumed couldn’t be older than a high schooler, her bushy black hair taking up as much, if not more space than her body was.

“...you cant just sell whatever bones you find on the edge of the road, especially if there’s still  _ animal on them _ !” Joe caught the tail end of her sentence.  _ What? _

“Listen, I told ya miss, the dog had a bullet in ‘im. I don’t think I’m the one ya should be mad at.” The shopkeep’s argument only made matters worse, however, as the girl’s face grew red.

“I’m not mad at you for killing my dog, I’m mad at you for  _ taking his bones and selling them  _ without checking his collar, which, I  _ know _ he was wearing, or  _ checking for a microchip.” _

At this, Joe’s already gaping expression turned to horror. He had to get away from this. Unfortunately, the girl was blocking the doorway, so he decided to wait it out in the back. He circled back around to the books, and picked back up  _ Fossils for Complete and Utter Idiots. _ It actually seemed to be somewhat interesting, despite the condescending tone. Maybe he’d actually buy it. 

“IF YOU CAN FIND THOSE TINY BIRD BONES FROM THOSE TINY BIRD BODIES YOU CAN FIND A MICROCHIP!”

...or maybe not. You know, he didn’t really want to support businesses with such questionable morals. Or maybe they weren’t that questionable? How did the girl know this shop sold her dog’s bones anyway? For all she knew, his bones could be bounding across the open countryside; she could be chasing the trail of some other dog’s bones. 

“HIS COLLAR WAS IN YOUR DUMPSTER,  _ WITH ASSORTED VISCERA, I MIGHT ADD _ , WHAT WAS I  _ SUPPOSED TO THI-  _ NO, YOU TELL ME, I WANT TO KNOW.”

Yeah, that was pretty bad. He could probably buy it online for cheaper anyway. In fact, thanks to the magic of smart devices, he could order it  _ right now. _ He pulled up Amazon on his phone and typed in a search for the book. Nothing. eBay. There were a few listings, but not many, and they weren’t cheap. Archaeology nerds and edgy teens, judging by usernames, were willing to pay a pretty penny for this book, for whatever reason. The prices were reaching up into the hundred-dollar range. Joe looked at the book, which he could probably resell for a good price, then the front of the shop. The book, the girl. Book, girl. Capitalism, morals. 

By the time capitalism won, the girl had long since stormed out of the shop, so Joe didn’t feel too bad about supporting the business in her presence. 

He checked out without much grumbling from the shopkeep, then went on his merry way. 


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Joe tries something new.

The next time Joe went in the shop, not but a month later, the man wasn’t behind the counter anymore. Instead, Dave was. Joe frowned, as he had hoped he wouldn’t run into the insufferable hipster again. This was just his luck. 

Dave wasn’t alone, though, and to Joe’s immense dismay the person accompanying him was also dressed head to toe in hipster attire, or something to that effect- Were pajama pants a hipster thing? Maybe, Joe wasn’t an expert on this stuff. He even had the stupid fucking 2011 tumblr Ray-Ban glasses. Oh, how Joe would much rather die than have an interaction with them both. But he came here with a purpose and he wasn’t just going to abandon it because of two pricks who probably had blogs where they pretended to be much cooler than they actually were, or engaged in mainstream culture with a passive-aggressive tone for “ironic purposes”. 

Joe walked past the pair, trying to tune out their conversation and failing. 

“I didn’t have this problem with the previous owner, just take the fucking fish, Dave.”

“Nope, I’m afraid I cannot do. Under the new Strider dynasty we don’t accept random dead shit anymore.”

“It’s not random, you know I keep an aquarium.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m gonna need you to sign the forms, Eridan. It’ll only take a couple minutes.”

“I already signed your forms online! I don’t have time for this.”

Joe wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or if there was a hint of a smile on Dave’s face as he responded, “We need a hard copy for legal reasons. Arguing this will only take longer than is necessary.”

“You’re a fuckin sadist.”

Dave said nothing.

“Ugh, fine, give me the forms.”

Joe was definitely not imagining the slight happiness on Dave’s face as he slid over the forms. 

“Have fun.” He turned around to do something with the cash box. 

Eridan began turning through the several-inches thick packet of forms.

Joe went into the back of the store to look at the books again.  _ Fossilization for Complete and Utter Idiots  _ had piqued his interest, and he was considering a hobby in fossil collecting, as it seemed rather fun, and a good investment. His future posterity would have the dead things to sell if nothing else. He ran his index finger over the spines of the books until he found a book on fossils which seemed to have a bit more information about the collecting aspect. 

After leafing through a few books, he settled on  _ The Art of Fossil Collecting. _ It wasn’t too stuffed with jargon, and it had some helpful pricing tips in the back so Joe knew he wouldn’t be ripped off. It was also seven dollars, so Joe could justify the price. 

As he was checking out, Dave, sadly, decided to open his mouth. 

“So,  _ The Art of Fossil Collecting _ ?” his deadpan voice was like sandpaper to Joe’s ears.

“Yes.” Joe could hear the shortness in his own voice.

“Nice. If you ever want to get more involved, Rose is enforcing a Fossil Club. Meets on Thursday afternoons, right here in the shop. Well, not really here, in the shop, it’s in the back room, but you get the idea. Drop by if you want, it’s a pretty good place to learn more about dead sh-stuff.”

Joe nodded and took his book before leaving.

He didn’t trust himself to act reasonably when not only was there one hipster in the store who just would not shut up, there was also another one filling out paperwork with what looked like a quill pen. 

When Joe got into his apartment he collapsed onto the couch, letting out a cry of pain when he landed on the book. 

He shook the book out of the plastic bag onto the table and a smaller, neon green paper flitted out onto the floor. Frowning, Joe bent over to pick it up. He held it closer to his face to read it out, and if Joe was the kind of person to face-palm he just might have. It was a flyer for the Fossil Club. Joe resigned to putting it in the recycling whenever he got up, there was absolutely nothing in the world would ever make him want to go to the Fossil Club, ever. 

….ever. 

“So what made you want to learn more about Fossils?” The gothic looking girl he was talking to smiled at him as she stirred her drink.

“I uh, don’t really- don’t really know. I just thought the shop looked interesting, and then I got a book?” Joe hated himself more than words could describe right now, but the girl was smiling and nodding as if he was the best conversationalist she had ever encountered.

“Oh that’s nice. I’ve talked to Dave about getting in new customers from the street a few times, but he’s choosing to prioritize maintaining an underground, exclusive feel. This club was my compromise, because although he’s technically the owner, he has almost zero business skills, unfortunately. I’m glad the exterior was enough to lure at least one customer in.”

Joe nodded, not sure what to say, and not wanting to interrupt what could possibly be a long rant about business strategies, but instead of continuing, the girl stopped, waiting for him to say something.

“That- uh, sounds like a good compromise. This club seems to be quite popular.” Joe gestured to the rest of the back room, where about five other people were standing around in little groups. “For, uh, a club about fossils.”

The girl nodded, looking around with a slightly pained expression.

“Yeah, I managed to get a couple friends to come along, but-” she stopped mid-sentence as the door opened, and turned around to look at who it was.

A tallish girl in a much too fashionable dress stepped in, waving at the goth girl. She looked like she could probably cut someone in half if they messed with her, and still look just as fabulous as she did currently. 

The goth girl turned back to face him.

“Sorry, I have to go, have fun at the meeting, er… what did you say your name was?”

“Oh- uh, Joe. And you?”

“I’m Rose.”

He started to wave but she was already by the door, talking to the tallish girl. 

Joe turned back to the rest of the club members, not really sure what to do. 

Fortunately, he didn’t have to stand staring there for long, as Rose and the tallish girl had begun herding people to the center of the room. 


End file.
